


Loaded

by saturninesunshine



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Again, Angst, F/M, Retrospective, as always, i have a type, mid season two somewhere, oh the angsty angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 21:22:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1279312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturninesunshine/pseuds/saturninesunshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're going to get yourself killed. Don't you get that?" Logan always had a death wish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loaded

**Author's Note:**

> This is another one of those retrospective things. Basically there's no plot, just angsty feelings I must explore. Quotes mostly taken from 2x10 and my brain.

His voice cut through the din of the tattoo needle buzzing near her face.

Her heart plummeted. She didn’t need to look for one second – not that she could with Liam Fitzpatrick’s fist around her throat. She concentrated on the feeling of her pulse beating steadily through his fingers. 

It picked up. 

All throughout Danny Boyd grabbing her, tazing him, getting thrown on a pool table and threatened with a needle, her heart never picked up once. She was Keith Mars’ daughter and she had been well schooled in keeping her cool in these situations.

Then again, that was before Lilly’s murder, her mother’s departure, and Shelley Pomroy’s infamous party.

_Hey_. 

Before Logan.

_Come on, Veronica. Let’s go._

She refused to let the tears fall. She focused on the tight grip around her throat. She gave no credence to her fear. She couldn’t listen to him. She couldn’t listen to his cockiness and self-assured swagger.

Poor little rich boy.

_She_ remembered. She remembered every awful thing she called him in his house while he toweled off indifferently. But he still wasn’t listening. He still didn't care about every life threatening situation he had gotten himself into. He was still walking into an Irish bar with a gun like nothing could ever touch him. He spoke about her like he was her protector when he was the one that was always in danger.

All she could think as she grabbed her bag and disappeared through the door was how she wished he never showed up. She would have preferred getting mutilated to this.

This _stupid_ boy and his _stupid_ gun and his _stupid_ murder accusations.

Veronica never wept for herself. The only time she had done that was in the sheriff’s department in a tattered white dress and she knew it would never happen again. She would never let it.

It was only now, at this very moment, alone with him, could she ever reveal her true self. There was always the mask in place. Not just as a defense mechanism but to convince everyone that she could still smile and twirl, and not have so much anger in her heart.

_You’re going to get yourself killed. Don’t you get that?_

She spewed fury but this stupid boy just took it. And as her tears ran down her face, she hoped to god that he couldn’t see. She hoped he really was that stupid and didn’t understand what she was really saying.

He would always be the one that scared her to death. He was always the one she would cry over.

_It’s not even loaded._

As if that made everything okay. As if his death wish wasn’t anything at all. He might not care that he was putting himself on death’s door, but someone did. She just hoped she wasn’t that transparent.

Logan Echolls. Dead.

What was even scarier was the fear that she wouldn’t survive it.

How her heart beat and bled when it was the last thing that she wanted. 

_It’s not even loaded._

_It’s not even loaded. I_ _tsnotevenloadeditsnotevenloadeditsnotevenloadeditsnotevenloaded_

She slammed the door because she couldn’t bear to look at his eyes knowing soon they wouldn’t open any more.

She could have handled it. The violence and the terror. She could have done it without him. And even if she couldn’t have, her heart didn’t even skip a beat until he held up his phone in that bar.

Only then did she feel like screaming.

Poor little rich boy.

“Do you want to die?”

But already, she could feel his answer. His eyes were soft but his mouth was hard. He could walk the line of vulnerability and defensiveness so easily.

Already she heard her bug in the guidance counselor’s office. 

_And what is so great about living?_

“Is this a trick question?” He decided to go the quippy route. “Need some drama in your life now that Duncan high-tailed it to Australia or wherever with his lovechild?”

She braced herself for the next part.

“That isn’t yours." 

“You know I thought I had missed the part where I carried a child for nine months,” Veronica answered, falsely contemplative. “But Dad hasn’t sent me to a convent yet, so you must be right.”

Logan just shrugged innocently. He could shrug off anything. “Why so clingy, Veronica? What’s it to you anyway? Would you really be so heartbroken? Would you _cry_?”

That seemed to be an insult in itself. He had a knack for biting at you at your real weakness.

Veronica opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She felt paralyzed and bewildered and for the first time, Logan’s eyebrows knit in something close to confusion. 

“Well. Veronica Mars. Speechless. I never did get that memo about hell freezing over…” She was almost grateful how he skated over the issue. Though she didn’t know why he wasn’t giving her a harder time. “But that seemed to happen a lot last year. Strange.”

“I guess I won't count on you asking me to prom, then,” Veronica snapped. She was well intent on having the last word, but she always seemed to forget that she was well matched in this regard. 

Too matched. 

“You know, never say never, Veronica.” 

Her knuckles were white over the strap of her bag. She wished she could sling it at his head. She should have just kept walking. 

“I’m an Echolls. You know.” He shrugged again, but this time, not quite meeting her eyes when he spoke. “Death is in our blood one way or another. I think I’d prefer to take after my mother instead of my father.”

“Shut up.” She meant it to come out sharp. You would think someone had just punched her in the lungs from the amount of air she spoke with.

Logan was never the type to think about prom, but she could almost see him in a white suit. He went for flashy, not traditional.

“Would you cry, Veronica?” His voice was soft when he asked this time.

Her bag hit the floor, her nails biting into his collar. If she could feel him, it meant he was still there.

What could she say? 

_Of course?_

He was too close already.

He would be closer if she said that. As close as she wanted him to be – desperately, passionately, fervently _needed_ him to be - it was closer than she was ready for.

_Not yet._

_Not yet._

_Not yet._

She opted for the easier way out.

“I already have.”


End file.
